By Marci Pereira
Project: ‘Archiving Memories of Mombasa Goan
School’
email: <mombasagoanschool@gmail.com>
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Contents |
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Section |
Subject |
Page No. |
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Introduction |
2 |
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1.0 |
‘MGM Fraternity’ |
2 |
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2.0 |
Contrasting Diversity |
2 |
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3.0 |
Further Insight into Life in Makadara |
3 |
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a)
Shiri Dukas |
3 |
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b)
Fruit Stalls |
3 |
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c)
Kahawa Peddlers |
3 |
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d)
Maji Fereji |
3 |
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e)
Hawkers Galore |
5 |
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f)
Other Home Provisions |
5 |
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4.0 |
Places of Worship |
5 |
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5.0 |
Makadara Goans |
7 |
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6.0 |
Matrimonial Alliances |
8 |
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7.0 |
Makadara ‘Playground’ |
9 |
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8.0 |
Stella Maris Church Ground |
10 |
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Selection
of Sporting Talent |
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9.0 |
Tony Mascarenhas (Masky) |
11 |
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10.0 |
Joe Gonsalves (+ Devotion to Makadara’s Patron Saint) |
13/15 |
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11.0 |
Walter Cardoso |
15 |
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12.0 |
Jack Fernandes |
17 |
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13.0 |
John Mascarenhas |
17 |
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14.0 |
Mombasa Falcons Football Team |
19 |
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15.0 |
Makadara’s Healing Aunty: Mercekan |
21 |
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16.0 |
Mombasa Times/Coconut Oil Pereira |
22 |
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17.0 |
Our Amazing Bulbul |
25 |
‘Makadara:
Cradle of Mombasa Goan Sport’
by
Marci Pereira
Project: ‘Archiving Memories of Mombasa Goan
School’ email: <mombasagoanschool@gmail.com>
It is with deep
sadness that I learnt of the passing on 22 January 2021, of my close Makadara
boyhood friend and schoolmate: Anthony Mascarenhas ~ more popularly
known in the Goan community as Tony Masky.
He finished school in 1961 and from my earliest memories, was a
truly multi-talented sportsman and naturally gifted kid ~ in whatever games or
sport we indulged in. This chapter is dedicated to the memory of Tony,
our other celebrated Makadara Goan sportsmen in my time: Joe Gonsalves (Football); Walter Cardozo
(Hockey); Jack Fernandes (Athletics); John Mascarenhas (Snooker) and to
all those from Makadara, no longer with us.
Whilst working on this write-up in April 2021, I counted the loss of six
additional of our Makadara friends in the course of 5 months. May all their souls rest in eternal peace.
Just as schoolmates, playmates also leave
indelible memories, perhaps because of the number of formative years we spend
together. For me, it certainly was the
case with Tony and the impact he made on me. This chapter
offers me the opportunity of presenting a panoramic insight into our life in
Makadara in the 1940s/50s. What was
Makadara like then?
1.0 ‘MGM’ Fraternity
‘MGM?’ No, not Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Inc ~ whose
metonym is that roaring, intimidating, lion at the start of their movie shows. In this case, as a neighbourhood friend Thomas
Pereira, proudly reminded me, stands for ‘Makadara Goans
Mombasa’. To date,
those of us raised there, share a special camaraderie like members of an
exclusive club as another of our mates described it as “Ndugus (Brothers and
sisters)”. Makadara was in effect,
an extension of the congested Old Port district of Mombasa, where houses,
many with corrugated iron roofs are densely packed with narrow alleyways
(gullies) weaving in between them – devoid of any modern-day town planning. A true maze for any newcomer into the
area. Anyone, aiming to get to the
Mombasa Fish Market in the Old Port district or to the Fort Jesus, in
the shortest time on foot, would have a head-start if guided by one of us, raised
in Makadara. We knew our way through
those tight back-street gullies, as a shortcut.
The district was not too dissimilar from an Arab souk. After all, historically, the Old Port
district, was the original ‘Mombasa’ which had strong trade and cultural ties
with the Gulf states. That is where the
dhows sailed in and out from, and did so, well into the 1950s I can recall.
2.0 Contrasting
Diversity
Makadara was unlike
any other residential districts of Mombasa.
It was a ‘colony’ in its own right.
During my time, Makadara was a cultural mix of harmoniously co-existing peoples
of different traditions, faiths and origins: Swahilis, Baluchis, Omanis,
Yemenis, Seychellois and a whole range of Asian communities ~ Goans, Hindus,
Jains, Swaminaryans, Ismailis, Bohras, Ithnashiris, Gujratis, Punjabis, etc. Moslems made up a sizeable majority. The assortment of individual ethnic dress in
the locality made a colourful spectacle in the neighbourhood and visually emphasised
to any visitor, the sheer diversity of the district. On a daily basis, apart from our western garb,
one would see menfolk in fez caps, kufi/kofi (Moslem brimless, short round
white cap), Middle Eastern white Kaftan robes, Lungis (a garment similar to the
sarong), the Hindu Dhoti, Nehru and Jinnah-style outfits, including their trademark
caps. Women in Buibuis, Kangas,
Kitenges, Hijabs, Sarees, Salwar Khameez, etc.
At the end of
Ramadan, when the Feast of Eid was celebrated over five/six consecutive days,
Makadara literally resembled a part of old time Arabia. The focal point for family
entertainment, fun and frivolity for Moslems and others then, was the Makadara
Fair. Young and old, were bedecked in
their traditional dress and finery reserved for such special occasions. Apart from the jewellery the ladies would
have their arms and legs ‘smothered’ in designer henna. The whole area throbbed with good natured
banter and the festive mood was further enhanced with the public address system
at the fair, blasting out repetitive Arabic/Swahili music for hours each day. With our doors and windows wide open, hard
luck to anyone yearning for quiet and peace then. Homework?
Forget it. Spare a thought for migraine
sufferers in the middle of all that.
However, we looked forward to neighbours sharing their festival sweets. No qualms there.
3.0 Further Insight
into Life in Makadara
a) ‘Shiri Dukas’
The whole area was
well served with numerous ‘Shiri Dukas’.
‘Shiri’ was the term used locally to describe Yemeni/Omani
shopkeepers, who had a distinctive dress-style. They wore the ‘Lungi’ which was a dark-shaded
garment wrapped around the waist, up to ankle-length. A hefty broad leather belt harnessed the Lungi
around the waist. This belt incorporated
two ample sized pockets for safe keeping of monetary notes and coins. On ceremonial occasions, onto it, was also
hooked a scabbard with the traditional Arabic curved dagger. Over their shirt they wore a western style
jacket and the Kufi cap. One easily
identified Shiris from this standard dress.
‘Dukas’ were the tiny
convenience stores they owned and ran in the neighbourhood. These stores were a lifeline for locals as they
traded in domestic essentials and remained open from 6 am until well past
midnight. They were dotted throughout
the district. Their existence brought an
additional buzz and life to Makadara for they also served as meeting points for
a chat or sharing a quick ice-cold soft drink: Vimto, Rose Soda or Mineral Soda
in the early days. Coke, Pepsi, Fanta
arrived much later. Also, Kahawa (black coffee), halwa, kermatis, muhambris etc. With hindsight, they were for us ‘mini-supermarkets’
in our day: bread, butter, sugar, milk, tea, coffee, salt, cooking oil, maize flour
(ugali), biscuits (biscutti), soft drinks, basic stationery, shaving blades,
paraffin, Aspro (no Ibuprofen then), soap, matches, cigarettes, candles, fagio
(traditional brooms), oil lamps etc; etc. Strictly,
no booze.
An interesting characteristic
of these ‘Dukas’ was how they catered to customer needs and means. For example, in those days, most homes did
not have fridges. So, if you wanted butter,
they would willingly slice a block down to half, quarter or even less, as per
one’s requirement. Likewise, bread
(mukate) which resembled a stout version of the French baguette ~ they would slice
that as per your requirement. Furthermore,
cigarettes, candles and the like would be sold by the stick if you did not want
the full pack. There was an old-style balance
scale with weights, for measuring out loose items like sugar, flour, salt. Their service was geared to meeting individual
requirements. If one could not find what
you were looking for at one store, you tried the others, which were generally
within close proximity on foot. Looking
back, there isn’t a more apt term than ‘convenience stores’ to describe
these dukas.
The nearest one to our
home was barely 50 paces away and owned by Mr Siddiqui Said. He sent his sons to the Coast Arab Boys School. However, in the 1950’s, he purchased a plot
of land in Ganjoni and built a dwelling immediately outside the right-hand exit
of the Mombasa Goan School. On moving
there, he registered his younger son Mustafa Said at the Goan School, who some
ex-students may remember. Schoolmates
will recall that the left-hand exit of the school, led straight into the Vianna’s
home.
b) Fruit Stalls
These stalls too
were mostly owned and run by Shiris.
These were large wheeled wooden carts parked strategically at busy ‘crossroads
with an overhead canopy for shade and multi-layered shelves for display of
seasonal fruit. Garlands of bananas
would dangle along the front. Fruit in
stock the year-round, were bananas, oranges, papayas, pineapples and tender
coconuts (madafu). Oranges (machungwa)
and bananas were sold by the dozen whereas papayas, pineapples and tender
coconuts per fruit. Seasonal fruit were
mangoes, guavas, custard apples, kunnazi (borams/berries), kungus
(badam), cashews, passion fruit, pepeta, victorias, matundas,
macomas, etc., amongst others.
With some of the
seasonal fruit like half-ripe mangoes, vitorias and matundas there was always a
sprinkler pot of chilli-powder close at hand.
The fruit were suitably sliced and chilli-powder sprinkled over
them. That mouth-watering sweet, sour
and chilli mix was a great favourite of kids to spend their pocket money
on. Macoma, was a hard nut to crack, but
as youngsters we learnt the art of skinning its’ tough outer skin in order to
get our teeth into that ultra-thin layer of chewy, tasty flesh. To us boys, Baobab was another hard
nut to crack but nowhere as challenging as the Macoma.
Alongside these
fruit stalls, often there were vendors of ‘appetizers’ of freshly roasted jigu
(peanuts), salted if preferred, maindi (corn on the cob) or muhogo
(cassava fingers), over blazing charcoal-fire stoves. For
light when darkness beckoned, these fruit-stalls depended on portable ‘Petromax
Lanterns’ that utilised kerosene. These lights were a magnet for ‘swarms’ of
tropical insects, especially just before the rains.
c) Kahawa (Coffee) Peddlers
This was another
domain of the Shiris – ‘the one-man walking café’ - a practice that
hails from the Gulf region. A trade mark
of these peddlers was the shiny brass, conical, coffee pot plus the supporting
gear they carried around: a charcoal-fired stove base for the pot, harnessed on
a portable wire frame with handle; a detachable brass water container hooked to
the frame for washing cups; miniature ceramic cups without handles and a pair
of heavy-gauge ornamental metal cups deployed cleverly in one hand to play a
distinctive metallic ring that announced their presence in the locality. As explained earlier, the Lungi was
their dress but the jacket in this instance, was in khaki, sleeveless and with
generous sized pockets to hold a dozen or so cups. Another must have addition was a pocket-sized
sprinkler tin containing ground ginger.
The metallic ring
of the cups raised awareness that the kahawa-man was around. In keeping with Middle Eastern taste, this
was strong roasted, ground Arabica coffee that was kept hot on the charcoal stove
as they moved around on foot. Handling
the hot coffee cups was an acquired art with the locals. One held the wide rim between two fingers of
a hand and slurped it gently to nourish the palate. Coffee was offered with or without
ginger. These peddlers would make their
daily rounds in the neighbourhood, twice a day.
As the cups were re-used, these guys would stand around until their last
cup was reclaimed. No souvenirs
there. Understandably, they did brisk
business around outdoor work sites.
d) Maji Fereji
(Water Dispenser)
Homes that did not
have piped water depended upon ‘Maji-Fereji’ supplies. These were manned water-supply dispensing stations,
set up by the utility company, for the purchase of metered-water for domestic
use. Homes were expected to collect this
water in their own receptacles, usually ‘debes’. Debes, were previously used rectangular cooking-oil
tin containers, with a capacity of 5 gallons or so, that were converted for
manually transporting water to individual homes. Visiting Makadara, one would invariably see
no end of these porters criss-crossing the entire neighbourhood. With hindsight, it was sheer drudgery for these
porters/house-helpers to heave these tins on their shoulders, but it provided
them a means of earning a living, I expect.
Maji-Fereji was a central point known to everyone in the
locality. Makadara was generally devoid
of trees or green areas but interestingly, a cluster of tall Kapok (Cotton)
trees, that provided shade for the dispensing station, thrived. It was the water overspill that nurtured them. Maji Fereji was Makadara’s oasis.
Just as with water, there were many homes without electricity. These depended on kerosene oil lamps for night light. For cooking, it was predominantly charcoal or paraffin stoves
e) Hawkers Galore
There were no end
of hawkers selling an assortment of produce and wares. These were individuals carrying baskets on
their heads or in hamali carts (hand carts). Could be fruit, veg like barazis (beans),
dried fish (Samaki), coconuts, metal ware like: ‘Sigidi’
(charcoal stoves), ladles, tongs, domestic utensils; Kikapus (woven palm
baskets), house mats, brooms and the like.
Hamali carts were used to sell bulkier, heavier products like
bags of Makara (charcoal), Madafu (tender coconuts) etc. Dhows arrived in Mombasa Old Port once
a year and were brought in by seasonal trade winds. We knew when they were in port because of the
additional activity hawker-wise in Makadara.
These traders came selling more exotic items from India or Arabia like
rugs, carpets, cotton linen, wooden toys, Hazur (dates) etc. When they were in town, our parents would
warn us to be ultra-cautious when playing outdoors. There was this idea that they would kidnap young
boys although mercilessly, I am not aware of any of our mates going missing.
An interesting
hawker was the ‘Mali-Mali’ where our mothers got involved in the main. This was bartering second-hand clothes in
relatively good condition, in exchange for household crockery, pots and pans. The bartering would take ‘ages’ between the
two until a mutually agreed reconciliation was arrived at. No cash involved here.
f. Other Home Provisions
For daily
essentials like meats and vegetables, we depended on the McKinnon Market
which was in close proximity to Makadara.
Our Mums would despatch the older children or house helper to purchase
the requirements for the day. The Meat
Market was immediately next to the Vegetable Market where stalls specialised in
selling fresh beef, lamb or chicken. For
fresh fish, it was a longer trip to the Old Port Fish Market. However, there were agents (usually Shiris
or Swahilis) who could be contracted on a monthly basis, to deliver daily
fish to the house in good time for lunch, per an agreed prescribed value. The kinds of fish delivered depended on the
catch of the day, and of course the season.
I vaguely remember,
Mombasa had a Goan Fish Shop in Salim Road.
My Mum would send us there especially on Fridays, to get cuts of King
Fish. Being a day of abstinence for Catholics,
the shop was always filled to capacity on Fridays. There used to be queues outside the door.
For other
provisions like rice, flour, pulses, coffee, chillies, spices, etc. and additional
domestic essentials, we depended on Asian Dukas in the bazaar area located
around the McKinnon Market. Our
mothers would make monthly trips to these dukas, around the end of each
month, to pay the monthly bill and place new orders selecting the quality and
quantity of the produce of their choice, in person. These dukas offered monthly credit
terms and would know their customers by name.
My family’s choice store was ‘Shah Purshottam Kanji” right
opposite the McKinnon Market/Meat Market juncture. This was a monthly ritual for all our
Mums. I can remember mothers from the
Railway Quarters cutting through Makadara, as a short cut, to these dukas. The order would arrive home at an agreed
time, on specially designed pedal bicycles meant for such deliveries. Just a handful of Goans, or others, for that
matter, owned cars then. So, all our
daily errands had to be done on foot. A
few homes did own a bike, as we did, with five boys in the family.
4.0 Places of
Worship: Moslems
Serving the large Islamic
community, was a mosque close by. Each
day, at 5am, the muezzin could be heard calling the faithful to prayer from his
minaret. No loud hailers during my days
but audible enough to wake up the neighbourhood. Friday being a day of prayer, would generate
a lot of movement around our home, with menfolk dressed in their white kaftans
and kufi, making their way to and back from the mosque. During Ramadan, Makadara was alive until the
early hours of the morning. A group of
two or three ritual singers, that included a drummer, would go door-to-door chanting
Islamic verses. It had a twin purpose: Alerting the faithful to prayer and collecting
alms for the poor during their holy season.
Towards the end of
their Fasting Season there was such a tumult and commotion mainly among
children and young people, around Makadara, with all eyes transfixed onto the
sky at dusk, in search of the first sighting of the sliver of the new
moon. When it was spotted, the ambience
was ‘electrified’ with such joy and happiness.
The traditional high pitched ululating calls of the Baluchi women resounded
throughout Makadara. That heralded the
beginning of Eid Celebrations. [Eid Mubarrak].
In Makadara, there
was a well-attended Madrasa, in the neighbourhood, for young boys and girls,
close to our home. This was really an
outdoor wooden shack. It always
fascinated us, as boys, when passing by.
We would stop and peep through the wooden slats and see the youngsters
squatting on the floor, reciting Koranic verses under the watchful eye of their
austere religious teacher.
Catholics
At 6am, the bell of
the Holy Ghost Church announcing the celebration of the daily Mass could
be heard. Attending daily Mass, was a
must for all in our home. My brother,
Lazarus, and I being altar boys had to be there at least 10 minutes ahead. My Dad saw to that. The church was fairly close ~ barely a
5/10-minute walk for us.
In my time, amongst
the daily churchgoers was our Makadara friend: Agnelo Gracias (now Bishop)
and his family. I still hold vivid memories of
the young Agnelo, armed with, what seemed like a ‘voluminous’
leather-bound Daily Missal in hand, walking briskly diagonally through the
Makadara Park after morning Mass. That
short-cut to his home, was extensively used by other town-folk who lived in his
part of Makadara. Remember the Makadara
Park? That was the park with the
circular band stand, with a rotund roof and circumferential steps leading up to
the raised platform. When not in use as
a band stand, it was a great place for kids to play around safely, especially
on Sunday evenings, with our parents squatting close by, keeping a watchful
eye.
The park had sizeable
grounds laid to tropical grass and this was the venue where the earlier
mentioned Makadara Fair took place. In
the course of the school project, I learned that the renowned Mombasa Shiftars
Band entertained at this fair. The
band comprised of our younger schoolmates (1965): Benny Mascarenhas (Lead), Dominic
Noronha (Rhythm), Pauly Dias (Bass) Rudi Lopes (Drums). Here is an extract from Cecilia
Mascarenhas’ write-up on the Shiftars, that dovetails in this
context: “…The Shiftars also played for various Goan functions at the club
and weddings and yearly at the Makadara fete where they generated a big fan
base especially with the young Arab/Muslim girls and boys celebrating Id and of
course at the Diamond Jubilee Hall for various Ismaili weddings and
functions…).” The Shiftars would have played at
that Makadara Bandstand. More on this
illustrious band in the chapter relating to Mombasa Goan School: Music
and Musicians.
What Eid was
for the Moslems, Christmas was for Goans with the exchange of ‘Khusvar’ (Goan
home-made sweets) to family and friends.
Apart from our own neighbourhood, as boys, we looked forward to this
tradition in taking trays of these sweets, on foot, alongside our house helper,
radiating in all directions out of Makadara: Railway Quarters, Mnazi Moja,
Ganjoni, Makupa, etc. This involved a
lot of toing and froing in the hot sun.
Being a happy occasion, who cared?
We looked forward to a few coins being pressed into our hands as a thank
you gesture on occasions.
In keeping with our
Goa tradition, boys were busy crafting stars out of bamboo sticks and tissue
paper. Being handcrafted, the size,
colour and design was left to ones’ imagination and creativity. With an electric bulb to illuminate them,
they brightened the neighbourhood. Last
Christmas, my Makadara mate, Alu De Souza, scribbled in his greeting
card: “I still remember the stars you displayed on your roof”. Now that was nearly 70 years ago!!!
Hindus
For the Hindus,
there was a temple on the other side of Makadara Park, which I remember well,
just a block away from Dr Bonaventure Pinto’s surgery. Thanks to the feeding generosity of their faithful,
it attracted that many house pigeons in its forecourt to rival with Trafalgar
Square in London. The celebration of
Diwali brought throngs to the temple with garlands galore and there was sweet
floral fragrance around for days. The
devotees well-dressed male and female, all proudly sporting that blood-red spot
of religious significance on their forehead, which we knew as ‘kookum’. A practice, not too dissimilar from our ‘Ash
Wednesday’. As this celebration is known as the ‘Festival of Light’
it was time for endless fireworks in and around Makadara. Here again, we looked forward to the tempting
Mithai (Indian Sweets).
Whether Diwali or
not, I remember the temple had bell(s) ringing monotonously for hours every day. I presume this was all part of the daily
ritual. Bishop Agnelo/Flavio Gracias
will remember this well as they lived at the opposite end of the Makadara Park.
5.0 Makadara Goans
The community in
Makadara was made up mostly of ‘Tailoring Families’. The leading family probably
being that of Josinho Gonsalves (father of Joe Gonsalves, a schoolmate). A well-established Gents Tailor, I
guess he was one of the earliest tailoring outfitters in Mombasa that catered
for European clients. To meet growing
business demand, he recruited tailors directly from Goa. Many lodged in his home on first arriving in
Mombasa. Living immediately next door, they
had boarders as long as I can remember. Many
of these newly arrived tailors branched out independently in later years and would
be joined by their wives and children.
An early entrant
into Ladies Tailoring was Manoel Monteiro (father of Nelson Monteiro, my
classmate). His shop, named ‘Maison
Linda’ was round the corner from the Regal Cinema. Here too, with his growing establishment, he
recruited two of his brothers: Joaquim and Francis from Goa. This was common practice to recruit family
members, friends or fellow villagers direct from Goa, then.
Interestingly, all
the above-mentioned tailors were the founding fathers of the St Francis Xavier’s
Tailors Society in Mombasa which was originally established in 1905. What is noteworthy too, is none of the sons
or daughters of Mombasa tailors branched out into tailoring. From my memory, I know of only two ‘sons’ of
tailors in East Africa who followed in their fathers’ footsteps: Casimiro
Dias of ‘S Francis Dias’ in Mombasa and Raymond Fernandes of ‘SFX
Fernandes’ of Kampala. Both attended
tailoring colleges in the UK and returned to run their family businesses in
East Africa.
The neighbourhood
comprised a broad spectrum of Goan surnames: Alphonso, Cardoso, Da Costa: De
Souza; Dias; Fernandes; Gonsalves; Gracias; Mascarenhas; Monserrate; Monteiro;
Pereira; Ramos; Rebello; Silveira; Tavares.
Occupation-wise, apart from tailors, we had three work for Barclays
Bank; two for Standard Chartered Bank, four for African Marine, four
for East African Customs & Excise; several for East African
Railways & Harbours; two for Saccone & Speed; Gailey
& Roberts; Smith Mckenzie; Portuguese Consulate; Mombasa Times. In addition, there were three Teachers,
a part-time Police Reserve Officer and a Chief Fire Officer (Jimmy
Tavares) at the Mombasa Kilindini Docks Fire Station.
The ‘Tavares
Family’ of seven sons and a daughter, although Mangalorean, were viewed as Goan
friends in the neighbourhood. They were
popular in Makadara during my boyhood years.
Their home was the ‘Boys Library’ for comics like Beano,
Dandy, Superman, Captain Marvel, Tarzan, etc.
No need for an invitation into their house. Their open house friendliness was extended to
us Makadara boys. We walked in and took
a seat like bees to honey, because of the comics. The family were most accommodating in this
respect.
The Tavares
boys were a talented bunch.
Henry Tavares, who finished school in 1957, was the Artistic
Director for Mombasa Goan Institute’s Centenary Celebrations in
2001. His exceptional gift for art was
apparent to us all, from a noticeably young age. In the heyday of ‘Rock-n-Roll’, his brother Flavian,
exhibited that x-factor quality and went on to win the prize at the dance competition
organised by Mombasa Tailors Club, in partnership with one of the Abreu
girls. Their elder brother Jimmy,
the Fire Officer, played a key role in the rescue work following the tragic
collapse of the Naaz Cinema roof in Mombasa whilst a movie was in
progress. This cinema was next to the Mombasa
Police Station/Coast Girls School.
Schooling
In the earlier years,
many of our families had a choice of two schools for boys and girls: a) Star of the Sea School. b) Mombasa Goan School. Many boys like myself and my brother Lazarus,
started off at the Star of the Sea School up to the age of 10/11 years after which
we were expected to transfer to a secondary school which invariably was the
Mombasa Goan School from 1932 onwards.
For girls, the number
one choice was the Star of the Sea School.
Although we had girls at the Mombasa Goan School in my time, I cannot
recall any of the Makadara parents sending their daughters there. Star of the Sea had a well-established record
and reputation dating back to 1912.
6.0 Matrimonial Alliances
Makadara Goans, being
a close community, witnessed a few marital partnerships. Here are some I recall: i) Anselm Monserrate/Angelina Fernandes;
ii) Thomas Pereira/Sebastiana Mascarenhas.
iii) Patrus Pereira/Antonette;
iv) Lazarus Pereira/Celine Monteiro; v) Henry Tavares/Elvira
Fernandes; vi) Tony/ Philomena De
Souza. I am sure there must be others I am not aware
of. The ‘say-cheese moment’ wedding
photograph of Anselm/Angelina below (1958), captures several points made
earlier about our Makadara community. Mombasa’s tailoring community is well
represented therein. For me, this is a
memorable photograph which I am sure will interest many reading this chapter in
recognising some faces immediately and others vaguely, during their days in
Mombasa. Sadly, a good many of those are
no longer with us.
(Photo:
Courtesy of Xavier De Souza)
Anselm &
Angelina Monseratte’s Wedding Photograph:
Holy Ghost Church, Mombasa - (1958)
My observations: 1) Those steps leading to the
front door of the Holy Ghost Church, will have seen almost everyone married at
that church, photographed there. It was
the most favoured location for wedding pictures in addition to the palm fronds
in the same church grounds.
2) This picture has
half the Makadara crowd in it. I note,
my family is well represented therein:
Sister Juliana,
brothers Lazarus and Menino, Aunty Helen (De Souza) Nazareth,
cousins Martha and Lydia Da Costa.
3) I spotted both Tony
Masky’s parents and sister, Sebastiana. Joe Gonsalves, his cousin: Patrus Pereira, the best man; ‘Yes-Pea’
Pereira (Standard Chartered Bank), three Tavares brothers: Henry,
Flavian and Cyril; Augustine Fernandes. The bride’s parents: John (African Marine)
& Carlota Fernandes and her siblings.
4) Mombasa’s
Tailoring community is in strength: a) Mr Constancio & Mrs Dumiana Mascarenhas,
b) Earlier mentioned Monteiro brothers: Mr Joaquim Monteiro with his
wife Maria & younger sibling Mr Francis Monteiro; c) Mr &
Mrs Nunes (brother of H Nunes); d) Constancio Gonsalves; e) Mr
& Mrs Rodrigues (Lysette Tailoring).
5) Amongst the ladies
I recognised: Bridesmaid Marina Fernandes; Maria (Mascarenhas)
Mehegan; one of the Pires girls (sister of Felix Pires). {Sadly, when compiling this chapter, I learnt
that both Marina and Martha Pires passed away}.
6) Many of the little ones in the picture will be in their 70s’ now I guess. Although several other faces seem familiar to me, unfortunately the names escape me after all these many years. I can just imagine this picture evoking a lot of memories for our Makadara/Mombasa Goan folk, who will know of faces therein or at least jog their memory.
7.0 Makadara ‘Playground’
To call it a
‘Playground’ is a misnomer. Note, this
is not connected to the Makadara Park in any way. This was a tight, sandy,
flat, open plot, right in front of our flat-roofed house, in the middle of the
residential quarter. It offered a
sheltered little square bounded by our house and three others, where we played
as children. With the high density of
housing in Makadara, there weren’t other open spaces as this, from my recall. We spent hours during my boyhood years
playing with our mates, that included Tony Masky and the above-mentioned
friends. It wasn’t a playing field by
any stretch of the imagination, but it served as one in our context. Compact and congested as it was, we were
engrossed in hotly contested games of football, hockey, cricket, badminton,
marbles, gilli-danda, seven tiles, ‘askari-chori’ and much more. Running
round one of the houses, served as a convenient track circuit.
We tried to
improvise where we could. For instance,
cricket was with a sawn-off bat from a wooden plank, a tennis ball and sticks
for wickets/bails. Numbers were often
three or four a side. All our games then were barefooted. Parents could not afford school shoes and expensive
sporting paraphernalia, apart from hockey sticks. Badminton was played by those in work who
could afford the rackets /shuttlecocks/nets required. The court lines were mapped out using firewood
ash which was in ample supply. The Gonsalves
family, that kept boarders, used a wide cast-iron cooking stove that
utilised mangrove-pole firewood. Hence,
there was no end of ash available daily here.
Also, many of us used charcoal stoves for cooking, which was an
alternative.
Here is an
interesting childhood memory recorded by Geraldine (Mascarenhas) Rodrigues, a
neighbourhood friend and sister of John/Al Mascarenhas:
“ …… I was reminiscing our good old
days.…….. I also remember Joe giving us
a shilling which was a lot for marking the badminton court. …...
Our games would go
on until dusk set in. We returned home
dusty and sweaty – ready for a bath. Our
house with its long narrow veranda, served as a pavilion. Towards Joe Gonsalves’ end was a
permanent wooden bench immediately outside their front door. In jest, that was like our ‘Director’s Box’,
for our elders would relax out there in conversation whilst we played
blissfully on our ‘playground’. The
hours of fun, enjoyment and camaraderie those days brought us, is still fondly remembered
by many of our mates. Small as it was,
that ‘playground’ is where we honed our playing ability and techniques.
Interestingly, that
same open space permitted not only our sports activities but celebration of
events like Baluchi weddings, complete with decorative awnings, stage, seating,
etc. Adjoining this space was another
little square that served as a boxing ring during Ramadan evenings. I still recall many sleepless nights when those
noisy celebrations were taking place every year.
In 2001, my wife
Agnela and I, visited Mombasa to see what had become of my ‘hometown’, since my
departure in 1963. Obviously, I went to
Makadara. As everywhere else in Mombasa,
the place had changed drastically. Our
playground was ‘consumed’ by a big housing block. The only venue in Mombasa that had not
changed an iota, in all those years, was the Mombasa Railway Station.
(An ‘Extension’ of
Makadara)
For many of us
Makadara boys, our ‘full-size’ genuine playground was the “Stella Maris Club”, immediately
behind, and located within the Holy Ghost Church grounds. It was as good as an extension of our
neighbourhood. On days when there were
no evening church services on, the Stella Maris playing field, was alive with
boys eager for a robust and energetic kick-about, quite apart from those that
fancied table-tennis indoors. The
numbers were often sufficient to select two lively competing teams.
Now, somebody had to
be responsible for ensuring there was a decently inflated and well-maintained
leather football, available for play.
Whose role was that? Who else? Me.
Kidding aside, this was serious stuff, because I was conscious that if
there is no ball, there is no play.
Imagine the disappointment if there was no ball? After inflating it to the right pressure with
a bicycle hand pump and ensuring the tie-lace was sufficiently tensioned, my
regime was to rub candle wax into the stitching (and the leather) of the
panels. That was to ensure a prolonged
life for the ball. Soon after that
‘polish treatment’, it really was a big temptation to give the waxed ball, the
first whack. I loved the sight of
seeing our mate Agnelo Gracias turn up at our house, around play time,
infused with such excitement, take charge of the ball, grab it tightly
under-arm and along with Flavio, his brother, myself and my brothers,
and anyone else whoever was there, march delightedly towards the Stella Maris
ground. What a lovely and delightful
memory that remains for me.
9.0 Tony Mascarenhas
(Masky) ~ A Multi-talented Sportsman ~
Tony remains
transfixed on my mind as one of our earliest playmates in Makadara. He was like no other, with an insatiable
appetite for any game on any day and at any time – be it marbles, gilly-danda,
football, hockey – you name it. And boy
he excelled in whatever game we played whether in Makadara or the Stella Maris Club. After school and during holidays, he always
came looking to play with us at our home.
His family did not have to worry: “Where’s Tony”? You could lay a bet he was on ‘Makadara Playground’. Always, very obliging, respectful and never
quarrelsome. His parents and our elders
knew him affectionately as “Antu”.
Our families were good friends. That is why he has left such a profound impact
on me.
His excellence in
all sports was apparent to us from the earliest and it came as no surprise that
he blossomed into an exceptionally gifted talent in football, hockey, cricket
in Mombasa Goan and other sporting circles.
He is one who was genuinely nurtured in Makadara and developed alongside
our other renowned Makadara sportsmen like:
Joe Gonsalves in football and Walter Cardoso in hockey.
From Makadara, he graduated
to play for the Goan School, the Mombasa Goan Institute, Liverpool Football
Club (Mombasa), and I learnt from his obituary, that he also played for Nairobi
Heroes. In hindsight, his stature, size
and footballing skills reminded me of that Argentinian legend: Maradona. Now that is some accolade.
Like the
Argentinian, Tony hails from a humble beginning. Coming from a tailoring family of four boys
and two girls, he was the fifth in line.
This is what his sister shared with me in response to my extending sympathies
on learning of Tony’s loss:
“… Tony will be
remembered as a man of humble beginnings.
We kicked our first soccer ball sewed out of torn socks stuffed with
tailors’ waste clippings. The next was a
picked-up stray ball at the Mvita Tennis Club.
The rest is history! ….”.
That statement puts
into perspective my earlier observations of how we would improvise, play
barefooted and that our families could not afford expensive sporting
paraphernalia. Tailoring offcuts for his
first ball!!! As indicated earlier, our
cricket bats were sawn-off wooden planks.
To keep our football going as long as we can, we would rub candle wax
into the leather and its stitching before every game.
Those of us raised
in Mombasa will be familiar with ‘Mvita Tennis Club’. As children, often, after Sunday evening
church services we used to take a stroll past it with our parents. Our schoolmate, Ernest Vianna and his
dad, regularly featured in Mombasa Times sports pages when tennis
competitions at that club were taking place.
I would follow their progress keenly from the newspaper reports.
Not many of our
children would know of or would have heard of the game we called ‘Galli-Dandu’. From the Namaskar Africana forum, I
picked up that other Asian boys raised in East Africa, also played the game, which
is of Indian origin and I was fascinated to have spotted the following item in
the Goan Voice UK, as recently as 27 February 2021!!! Here are pertinent extracts from that report:
“Panaji: Toy
major Funskool India Ltd aims to revive some of India’s traditional games such
as Gilli-Danda ……. after a call from Prime Minister Narendra Modi to
showcase and promote some of India’s traditional games. Chief Executive Officer of Funskool said that
15 traditional games and puzzles will be launched by the firm at the India Toy
Fair 2021. …………Funskool has converted
the outdoor games into board games whilst also launching wooden toys for
Gilli-Danda and Lagori, which is also known as Seven Tiles. …We
are planning to install new machinery at our plant in Goa …”
From the above, I get the impression that ‘Funskool’
is the Indian equivalent of ‘Toys-R-Us’ which we, out in the West, know
(or did know) so well.
Tony Mascarenhas’ family were our good
family friends. His elder sister, Sebastiana,
was the first from the Makadara tailoring community to have passed the Senior
Cambridge Exam. That instilled a lot of
confidence in children of low-income families, to likewise, forge ahead in school
education. Tony’s late brother Julian
was my classmate. Whenever I fell back
in my homework assignments Julian helped out. Sadly, in the course of working on this
chapter, I received the sad news that their older brother, Manuel,
passed away on 30 March 2021 in London.
Loss of two siblings within two months!!
May their souls rest in eternal peace.
I recently learnt that Manuel played for Mombasa Falcons and
Nairobi Crusaders. We see later how their
elder brother Cajetan and Julian also played for Mombasa Falcons.
I referred earlier to Tony’s penchant for
sport and games. The following puts into
perspective his love for physical activities.
I came out to the UK for higher education in 1964. In the sixties, Tony worked on board
a ship. My Mum got to know that his
ship would be stopping in London and packed a sizeable carton with goodies to
be passed on to me. I received a letter
to inform me when the ship would dock in London. With the help of a ‘London A to Z’, buses,
mainline trains I found my way to the London Docks from Battersea and the
quayside where the ship was berthed.
From the quayside, I drew attention of a crew member that I was there to
see Tony Mascarenhas and waited patiently. Several minutes later I see Tony
bounding down the gangway, panting and sweating and with a table tennis racket
in hand to greet me. He obviously got
interrupted in the middle of a game.
Tony was someone, I would have liked to meet just
one more time. Sadly, that is not to be. His children and grandchildren can be really
proud of him.
10. Joe Gonsalves ~ Football Maestro ~
Joe Gonsalves was our next-door
neighbour in Makadara – a Mombasa Goan School ex-student. His father, Josinho
Gonsalves, was one of the pioneering tailors in Mombasa. We knew the family well as we had a joint
inter-connecting door between our two apartments. We respectfully addressed his parents as Padrin/Madrin
which hails from the Portuguese Padrinho/Madrinho (Godfather/ Godmother). Mrs Gonsalves was in fact the Godmother
of my brother Lazarus. The family
were well known and respected in the Goan community in Mombasa.
Joe’s footballing flair
and skills were renowned in Mombasa and loved and appreciated not only by Goans
but Arabs, Baluchis, Swahilis. As we
saw earlier, Makadara, was home to all these communities. His command of Swahili was impeccable. Menfolk, in our neighbourhood knew him well
and called him ‘Josef’. They
would stop and chat with him in Swahili as they crisscrossed our home in
Makadara.
At school, sporting-wise, he was one of the early
beneficiaries of the Mr Ildefonse/Mr Joe Fernandes era at the Mombasa
Goan School. That was the dawn of what I
refer to as the ‘Golden Years’ of sporting history at the school. He also played hockey, but football is what
he excelled in. After school, he went on
to play for the Mombasa Goan Institute.
That was a significant break-through in my time because by doing so, he
became the first ‘son of a tailor’ to play for the Goan Institute, that
proudly embraced him as one of their own.
He broke through the glass ceiling and thereafter, the GI accepted
others like Tony Masky, Reynold Pereira, Jack Fernandes, etc.
The GI did not participate in the Mombasa
Football League. Most of their games
were friendlies with other clubs.
However, the GI ground did harness the competitive rivalries between
talukas of Goa: Bardez; Salcette; etc.
both in football and hockey. These were fiercely
competitive affairs that would generate a lot of interest in the Goan community
in my days, with each set of players determined to proudly represent the part
of Goa their forebears hailed from.
These events stirred up fierce ‘tribal rivalry’ on and off the field. Below is the photograph of the Salcete XI
that won the trophy in 1959 and includes ‘giants’ of Mombasa Goan football
then.
Salcete XI: Winners of Trophy in 1959
Standing Left to
Right: Rui Mergulhao; Seraphino Antao;
xxxxx; xxxxx; Pascoal Antao; Joe Fernandes
Seated Left to
Right: Jack Fernandes; Effie Antao; xxxxx;
Joe Gonsalves; xxxxx
Floor Left to
Right: xxxxx; Eladio Pereira (Mascot –
My kid brother); xxxxx
To play in the Mombasa Football League, our
aspiring Goan players joined either of two leading clubs in the town: a) Feisal Football Club or b) Liverpool
Football Club. These were fierce rivals
that mobilised all football enthusiasts of Mombasa, whenever they met each
other, be it in the league or the cup.
Mombasa Stadium was a sell-out. I
recall a few times of not being able to get through the turnstiles. One would know who won as there would be
cavalries of their fans parade jubilantly through the town. I had to make do in reading about the match
in the Mombasa Times the next day.
Joe Gonsalves was signed by
Feisal Football Club – the lone Goan player in my time. The name ‘Feisal’
was adopted in honour of King Feisal of Saudi Arabia. Needless to say, who their patrons and
supporters were. I did point out
earlier that Joe had a good rapport with Arabs and Swahilis in Makadara
and I believe that was a big factor in Feisal persuading him into
joining them. I remember attending one
of Feisal’s games at the Mombasa Stadium and the superb goal Joe
Gonsalves scored, single-handedly, the memory of which is still etched on
my mind.
Liverpool Football Club on the other hand,
secured the services of the renowned Albert Castanha in goal and Effie
Antao (cousin of Seraphino), who was an outstanding defender. Something I picked up in the course of my
project was that Tony Mascarenhas also played for this club, and so did Joe
Fernandes, another Goan School ex-student.
In fact, all the above-mentioned names were from the Goan School. Having left Mombasa in 1963, I lost all
connection with developments in Mombasa sport, thereafter.
Joe would join us
often on the Makadara Playground, tight as it was. In his early years he played barefooted, as
did most of the players of that period, and we did as boys in Makadara. He was one of the first to have gone through
that stage of transition towards using footwear when playing club
football. I recall even up to the point
when I left school in 1958 most of the boys partaking in school sports, doing
so barefooted. In that year, on School
Sports Day, I know of just two schoolmates who wore spikes. It was then that I saw the real advantage of
dedicated footwear for different sporting events because the two with the
running shoes, picked up first and second in the ‘Mile Event’ whereas I ended
up third on the podium. From 1960
onwards, the use of specialised footwear became more evident amongst our
sportsmen.
Unfortunately, Joe
Gonsalves was troubled with a knee cartilage problem which with modern-day sports
medical attention, I am sure would have helped prolong his footballing flair
for a few more years. I found out that
he moved to Nairobi in the mid-sixties and played a key role in the sporting
development of Goan youth.
Devotion to ‘Makadara’s
Patron Saint’
Saint Anne (Mother
of BVM)
‘Annual Ladainha’
Apart from this
sporting link, Joe Gonsalves’ family were well known in Makadara for another reason: the
annual celebration of the Feast of St Anne on 26 July. Every Goan child that grew up in Makadara
during my time, still carries rich memories of the nine-day novena (known
amongst us as Ladin), culminating in the celebration of the feast itself. The Gonsalves’ had a deep devotion to
St Anne. I was not able to
find out what their compelling reason for that devotion was. For me, that annual ritual has etched such loving memories of the Gonsalves’,
Cardosos’ and other family members. It was the event of the
year, on our neighbourhood calendar, that we all looked forward to, which drew
in all of the Makadara Goans.
Hymns, accompanied by violins, and prayers, were in Konkani. To this day, I subconsciously hum the tunes
when in the bath. The devotion began around 7pm and lasted about an hour. After the prayers, snacks were served with a
drink. That is what endeared the annual
ritual to the children, apart from the neighbourhood camaraderie.
Each year, the Gonsalves’ went
through extraordinary lengths and expense to celebrate the feast with pomp and fanfare
in Goa-style: burning incense, candles, garlands of jasmine, marigolds etc.
Moreover, it brought together, members of all social standing. One
year, I vividly remember the Mombasa Portuguese Consul (Felix Dias?), a
friend of Mr Gonsalves, turning up for the feast. Imagine all this 9-day Christian ritual
within earshot of our Baluchi, Arab and Indian neighbours all around us. That says a lot about our harmonious
co-existence then. The statue of St
Anne was not too dissimilar from the one above. I trust it must now be in the safe keeping of
a family member in Australia or Canada.
11. Walter
Cardozo ~ A Hockey Stalwart ~
Walter
was Joe Gonsalves’ brother-in-law.
He arrived in Mombasa from Bombay in later years. I had always been impressed by the Bombay
émigrés. Like Walter, they were
suave, confident and displayed an amazing command of English – both spoken and
written. They impressed me. Other than that, they were gifted in either
sport, music, writing, artistic creativity and the like. That said a lot about their schooling in
Bombay. Apart from Walter, I can
recall several others during my Makadara days, who arrived in later years: Walter’s brother Leslie, a Mr
Ramos that lodged with us, a Mr Silveira, Anselm Monserrate
and his elder brother, Sirino (Yes-Pea) Pereira and his brother, Wolfgang.
High
regard for Indian schooling/education was apparent in Mombasa, before and since
1932, when Mombasa Goan School was founded.
The opening of the Mombasa Goan School offered the opportunity for Goan
boys and others, to receive secondary schooling in Mombasa itself, for the
first time. I know a few of our
contemporaries in Mombasa, who were sent to India by their parents for schooling/higher
education. Bishop Agnelo Gracias,
did his seminary studies in Bombay after finishing at the Goan School. Another interesting Goan School ex-student
from the Railway Quarters, who got in touch with me in December 2020, is Fabian
(Fabio) Correia. Having done part
schooling at the Mombasa Goan School until 1959, his parents sent him to St
Joseph’s Boys High School in Bangalore. St Joseph’s founded in 1868, celebrated its
Sesquicentennial (150 years) Anniversary in 2018. As an outstanding alumnus, Fabian was
awarded a special citation for being the best all-rounder (athletics, hockey,
football, table-tennis) the school had produced to date. He schooled there from 1959 to 1963. That is some honour.
Walter loved his hockey and I remember well he trying to
emphasise to us, younger ones, the value of deft footwork and body movement to
improve our play. He would join us often
on the Makadara Playground. He was a regular
in the Mombasa GI hockey team and did actually captain the side for a few years,
I recall. That was the heyday of hockey
in Mombasa, with outstanding players like Franklyn and Michael Pereira,
Albert Castanha, Joe Faria amongst others. Knowing him personally, I guess he would have
been an inspirational captain drawing the best and most out of his team. In hockey, their biggest challengers in
Mombasa, were the Sikh Union. Their
intense rivalry always drew a vast crowd from both communities whenever they
met. I watched a few of those games. The
matches were so charged and the unyielding competitiveness occasionally led to
blows when fouled. The other fixtures
that drew much local excitement were when any of the Nairobi Goan Clubs (Goan
Institute/Railway Goan Institute/Gymkhana) were in town. There were occasional visits from Tanga and
Dar-es-Salaam Goan clubs too.
12. Jack
Fernandes ~ Athletics/Football/Tiatrist ~
Jack was another Makadara mate that arrived in later
years from Goa and joined the Mombasa Goan School. His father, PP Fernandes, a tailor,
worked at Moloo Brothers the ivory curio shop in Salim Road and he lodged
with the Gonsalves’. So, Jack
too, was our next-door neighbour in Makadara.
Hailing from Goa, football was his favoured sport to begin with and he
played for the school and thereafter the GI as a right winger. In school sports, his exceptional speed
registered him as a real talent in athletics.
I recall he amassed a case full of trophies from School Sports Days.
His
prowess in athletics blossomed further when he joined the Coast Athletics Club,
later to be named the Achilles Athletics Club, specialising in the 440-yard
event. He was one of those who
benefitted from the professional coaching expertise of Ray Bachelor, and
performed alongside formidable names like Seraphino Antao, Albert Castanha,
Joe Faria, Alcino Rodrigues, Meldrita Laurente and Laura Ramos and a host
of other reputable athletes of the day.
To my mind, the appointment of Ray Bachelor was probably the best
thing that happened to all our aspiring athletes of the day in Mombasa. The availability of the track and field
facilities of the Mombasa Stadium also played a key part in the enhancement of
these exceptional athletes. I look back
and often wonder what further sporting enrichment the appointment of such
professional coaches in football, hockey and cricket may have brought to the
naturally gifted of my time. I know for
one, the transformation infused following the appointment of Mr Joe
Fernandes as the Sports Master of the Mombasa Goan School in the late
1940s/50s to Mombasa Goan sport in general.
That enlightened appointment led to the ‘Golden Years’ in the school’s
sporting history.
Jack was a popular character in the Goan community
because of his ability to make others around him laugh. He was a gifted ‘Tiartrist’ (Konkani
actor/playwriter) often taking the part of a Goan ‘Charlie Chaplin’, complete
with the moustache, bowler hat, walking stick, suit and demeanour in the early
days.
The last
time I did see him was in 2001 at the Mombasa Goan Institute Centenary
Celebrations. During the week of
celebrations, a day was set for stage performances. Jack presented a Konkani play using
one of the Goan Institute’s African staff members, who he had coached to
respond in Konkani terms, expressions and mannerisms, alongside himself. The audience were in stitches, as I was. He had that touch of jollity, any day,
anytime, anywhere.
13. John
Mascarenhas ~ Coast Region Snooker Champion ~
John Mascarenhas
John
Mascarenhas’ family
were our close neighbours in Makadara.
He was just a little boy when I left Kenya in 1963. I always wondered whatever had happened to
their family after I left. I was so
pleased to have his younger brother Alleluia (Al), get in touch with me
from Sydney when I started on the school project. He filled me in with all their family news
and shared the above picture of a dignified looking John. Had I met John in the street, I would
never have recognised him. For that
matter, neither would he me, with all the years that had gone by.
I was
delighted to learn of John’s career development and accomplishments. After school, he went on to do Teachers’
Training specialising in Maths, Science and Sports. He taught at the Mombasa Sacred Heart School
and the Allidina Visram High School.
In the
course of my project, I was contacted in February 2019 by an ex-student of John
Mascarenhas: Mahbub Gulamhussein, who jotted down the following
memories of his time at the Sacred Heart School:
“……Good memories of 1978 to 1981 at
the Sacred Heart High School. Excellent
performance Academically combined with victories in Inter-Schools. Champions: boys’ and girls’ team in Hockey,
Swimming, Cycling, Athletics. The Young
Farmers Club won the Coast and National Awards.
Science Congress participation.
Credit goes to Headmaster late
Soares, late John Mascarenhas, Mr Shah who put in great effort and
encouraged students to participate. ………..
The school had excellent teachers e.g., Mr John Mascarenhas, Ms Aguiar,
Mr Shah, Mr Thomas, Mrs Bhutto, Mr Kabiro, Mr Gitau, Mr Omar………….”
Mahbub, gives credit to the school’s teaching staff that
included John Mascarenhas, who I gathered from others in the project,
made a big impression on many of his former students. Interesting to note from his recall that the
school did continue to have a strong sporting tradition, as it did in my time,
two decades earlier in, 1958. John
also played football for the Mombasa Falcon XI as we will see later.
I learnt
from Al that John was elected “Sportsman of the Year” at
the Mombasa Institute for a couple of years.
Also, that he was a Snooker Champion for the Coast Region
and did receive an award, from the President of Kenya, Daniel Arap Moi,
as per the photo below. I am impressed
by the personal accomplishments of that ‘little boy’ I used to know as John,
playing around in the neighbourhood.
I am
curious to want to know how and where he came to develop his love for
Snooker. The only two venues I knew,
that had billiard saloons in my time, were the Mombasa Goan Institute and
another private saloon, close to the Bristol Bar. The latter was close to Makadara which we
passed by daily on our way to and from church.
A regular there, was Alu De Souza’s older brother, Michael.
 |
| Late President Moi honouring John Mascarenhas |
In reflecting about our young days in Makadara then, I am convinced that should the same higher educational opportunities, now available to our children and grandchildren out here in the west, had been available to us, our professional/occupational trajectories would have been quite different. From my recall, higher education opportunities hardly existed in Mombasa, be it for boys, or girls, at that time. When I finished in 1958, ‘Teachers’ Training’ was the only tertiary education college available in Mombasa then. When it came to occupational opportunities, for boys, it was mainly Teaching, East African Customs & Excise, Railways & Harbours, Barclays Bank or African Marine. For girls: Teaching, Secretarial, Administration or Sales Assistants. It followed, that many of those with higher ambitions, had to travel abroad mostly, to avail of a wide range of career choice opportunities. There were scarcely any careers advisors either, during my time in Mombasa. Children of low-income backgrounds obviously lost out in terms of such a wide spectrum of professional and vocational choices possible.
14.
Mombasa Falcons Football Team
With membership of the Mombasa
Goan Institute reserved for the ‘elite’ of the Goan community, many of our
aspiring young sporting talent, who hailed from tailoring or low-income backgrounds,
felt culturally and socially excluded.
It is in that scenario that a collective of young lads, mainly from
Makadara, founded the ‘Falcons Football Team’.
In the context of this
project, I received a note from one of my Makadara mates – Alu De Souza
- who hails from a tailoring family, hinting how thoughts of that ‘community exclusion
in Mombasa’ still rankles. A gifted
footballer, after finishing school, he together with my late, younger brother Albert,
went on to become one of the co-founders of the Falcons Football Team,
to harness the sporting aspirations of so many others, like themselves.
Here is a poignant snippet
from Alu’s note dated 02/01/2013 in my file.
[ “…… I often think about
Albert, he was the one who chose the name ‘Falcons’ and your Mum stitched the
emblem on our white shirts, but he was not alive to see his dream. We knocked GI out of the Salus Cup. We won by 1 goal. They had all their top players, like Joe
Gonsalves, Albert Castanha, Lucas Remedios etc.
……. It was a turning point
for Falcons. …… We even had a hockey
side that beat GI………. They would not let tailors become members” ………]
Albert Pereira
(Co-Founder of ‘Mombasa
Falcons Football Team’)
Alu’s recall of that game, had
shades of the ‘David and Goliath’ biblical story for me. Joe Gonsalves, as we saw earlier was the
renowned Mombasa Goan football ‘maestro’ in the 1950s/60s. As noted earlier, he was my next-door
neighbour in Makadara. Joe was the best man at my wedding in
Nairobi in 1967. Albert Castanha,
another truly outstanding Mombasa Goan sporting icon (excellent Goalkeeper ~
nicknamed ‘Black Panther’), was crowned the ‘Sportsman of the
Century,’ by the Mombasa Goan Institute when it celebrated
its centenary in 2001. With the GI fielding
such awe-inspiring names in their side, beating them, was indeed a notable
victory for the young Falcons.
Hence, Alu’s elation.
My brother Albert,
passed away in October 1963, in the Hospital do Ultramar in Lisbon, as a
result of a tragic spinal injury, sustained in a swimming accident in Mtongwe. Alu also mentions the ‘Falcons
Hockey XI’ in Mombasa. In the course
of my work, I learnt, the late Kenya Hockey Olympian: Reynold Pereira
played for them.
The two pictures below show
the Mombasa Falcon Football Team. Picture 1 shows the winners of the MDSA
(Mombasa District Soccer Association) Disciplinary Cup in 1967. That was a massive accomplishment for this
young team when one considers that they were a group of random guys who got
together to express their talents and love for football and invite others like
them into the fold. These included Tony
Masky’s two older brothers: Cajetan and Julian and the
earlier mentioned John Mascarenhas, who was their cousin.
Here are some observations,
worthy of note: a) They did not have
their own ground. Neither did they have
the backing of any formal ‘club structure’ to drive them on. b) It was their passion for the sport and a
collective spirit, that brought them into the limelight.
c) The lads were from multi
communities. The Goan boys hailed from
tailoring or other low-income backgrounds and I would expect, the others did
too. d) They did not have a ‘monied-sponsor/s
to bankroll them’ to pay for their registration in the league or for expenses
like their playing kit and travel. I
learnt that those of them who were in work, like Caje Mascarenhas /Albano
Pereira helped out in that respect.
e) Anyone, who has grouped eleven players for a
match, will know what a challenge that can be to assemble a team which is dependent
on factors like availability and fitness of individuals. Bearing
in mind too, the issue of communication. Hardly anybody had telephones or cars in the
home then. I can just imagine, looking
at the make-up of the team, the players would have come from different parts of
Mombasa.
Their achievements are
commendable.
Picture 1 ~ Mombasa
Falcons Football XI: Winners of MDSA Disciplinary Cup in 1967
Standing Left to
Right: John De Souza; Seby Da Silva;
Robert De Souza; Ali; Alu De Souza; Abbas; Caje Mascarenhas
Front Row Left to
Right: Victor De Souza; Bruno Da Cunha (Goalkeeper); Cuba; Clement De Souza; Kirit.
Picture 2 ~ Mombasa
Falcons Football Team (1964/1965)
Standing Left to
Right: Julian Mascarenhas; Alu De Souza;
Edward Pires; Clement De Souza; Isaac; Kirit
Front Row: Victor De Souza; Caje Mascarenhas; Cuba;
Bashir; John Mascarenhas
15. ‘Makadara’s Healing Aunty: Mercekan’ Mrs
Magdalena De Souza
You
wouldn’t believe it, we had our own ‘sports physio’ in Makadara, popularly
known in the neighbourhood as ‘Aunty Mercekan’ – which means, lady from the
village of Merces, in Goa. She was the
mother of our fellow playmate: Alu De Souza and renowned amongst the
Goans, for her healing touch and herbal treatments. In keeping with our Goan tradition, we used
to address all our seniors as ‘Aunty or Uncle’.
This Aunty was a remarkable self-trained ‘Massage Therapist’, and I am
speaking from personal experience.
Playing barefooted in a tight space on rough ground in Makadara, our
bodies and limbs used to take no end of knocks and injuries.
If the
injury was too painful and did not heal in a reasonable time, our first resort
was to consult Aunty. She was always
obliging and had her own medicinal oil that she would massage soothingly. Her very touch was therapeutic. Like a medic, she would try and locate the
source of the injury - vein, nerve, muscle, joint that needed attention. On
pinpointing the precise spot of pain/soreness/ tenderness ~ “Ouch!” ~ it would
make us wince or jump. Her trademark expression
in Konkani at that point was: “Ich Thi Baba?
(Right here Son?)”. Aunty
would massage for a few days until the problem was seen to subside.
She was
a motherly, loving lady, respected by all.
My brothers and I got treated by her, so many times, as did Joe
Gonsalves, Jack Fernandes, Yes-Pea Pereira and many others. Often, if our mothers discovered we were
unwell, in pain or discomfort the first port of call was to ‘Aunty’ before
seeing a doctor. Apart from the
medicinal oils she prepared her own herbal remedies for tummy upset, stomach
pains, liver and kidney conditions and the like. She was renowned for the Goan
treatment of ‘Jaundice’ known to us as ‘Kakoi’, which entailed hot
branding of the inner lower arm. This
‘exclusive’ Goan treatment was found to be more effective than doctors’ oral
medication.
Interestingly,
in regard to ‘Kakoi’, here is a personal snippet that has stuck on my
mind. In the 1980’s, when we lived in
High Wycombe in the UK, I received a phone call at home from an anonymous Asian-
sounding lady caller, politely enquiring if I was a Goan. When I said I was, she then confided that her
husband was suspected of having jaundice.
They were a Hindu family formerly from Uganda, living in Berkshire and
were aware from their time in East Africa that Goans had a treatment for jaundice
and wanted to know if I knew anyone who would oblige in their case. Unfortunately, all Goan seniors I knew, who
may have obliged, had passed away and so I was not able to help. However, I was curious to know how she did
locate me. She took a chance going
through the telephone directory and when she came across the column for ‘Pereiras’,
looked up the nearest address, which happened to be us!!! How about that for a hit-and-miss?
With
that healing touch, Aunty was central in our lives. I remember she voluntarily helping to stay as
a ‘night-nurse’, whenever my family members were hospitalised. Likewise, she helped many of our Makadara
families. The very mention of ‘Mercekan’
triggers off so much loving nostalgia.
An Aunty, I will never forget.
16. ‘Mombasa Times/Coconut Oil Pereira’ ~ Anthony
Joseph Pereira ~
AJ Pereira was my dear Dad who was popularly
known under three titles: a) Mombasa
Times Pereira
b) Coconut
Oil Pereira c) ‘Balloon Uncle’.
a) ‘Mombasa Times Pereira’:
Dad
worked as a compositor at the Mombasa Times for over 36 years and was in
a privileged position to knowing ‘the news’ before publications appeared on
newsstands the next morning. Something,
we and our next-door neighbours, Joe Gonsalves/Walter Cardoso looked
forward to, was advance copies of sports reports, ‘hot off the press’,
scheduled to appear in next day’s edition.
It was usually when he came home around lunchtime, that he would bring
reports on matches and athletics meetings.
I vividly remember the excitement that gripped all of Mombasa, when Seraphino Antao was competing in the Commonwealth Games in Perth in 1962 and went on to win two International Gold Medals for Kenya, for the very first time. Although we knew the results from radio broadcasts on the day of the race itself, there was nothing like seeing the pictures and reading first-hand reports of the meetings, coming directly from Kenyan journalists in Australia. And to receive them before the general public got to read them!!!
Likewise,
when any of our Makadara mates like Joe Gonsalves, Walter Cardoso etc,
featured in the news following a noteworthy sporting contest, my Dad would come
home with an advance copy of the write-up.
Also, needless to say, we got a free copy of the Mombasa Times
every day.
Another
of my Dad’s privileges, fondly remembered by my younger generation Makadara
friends, was getting them free entry for cinema shows. Managers of all picture houses knew
Dad personally. They all needed current and forthcoming shows, advertised
daily, in the Mombasa Times and he was their contact at the publisher. If there was an interesting film playing in
town, he would take me and my brothers to the cinema house and after a word
with the Manager, we would get entry to see the show, if there were vacant
seats. I recall seeing some of the
blockbusters in my younger days, like Samson & Delilah; Ben Hur; Quo
Vadis; The Greatest Story Ever Told; Tarzan; Sabu & the Lion etc. Here is a snippet of an email received in
June 2016 from Al Mascarenhas (brother of John Mascarenhas), who is now
based in Sydney, in regard to my Dad and movies:
“…….. Our young days in Makadara were
the most memorable years and we were all good neighbours. The ladins, badminton, etc at your place
and the Gonsalves’ house brings back memories.
I also remember your dad used to get MOVIE PASSES and as I was good
friends with Menino and Eladio, they took me to the movies with them for
free. ……..”
Here is another delightful and
hilarious recall of his Makadara days, from yet another younger friend: Pascal
Mascarenhas, as recently as December 2020.
Pascal now lives in California:
“……….
You will not know me, but our family is deeply grateful to yours for all the
help provided during our time in Mombasa.
I remember fondly coming to pick up coconut oil from your house. The ‘laidainia’ at your house continue to
bring wonderful memories. Your father’s
gentle voice would cue the girls or the boys to join in the singing as he
played the violin. Wonderful memories!
Your dad
unknowingly also bailed me out when I sneaked to watch Benhur in the cinema
hall. As a youngster (may be 10 years
old) I had learnt to quietly enter the theatre without a ticket and head to the
toilet. Once inside and the lights were
turned off, I came out and looked for a vacant seat. Unfortunately, there were none as the show
was sold out! The usher noticed me and
asked me if I was a Pereira boy and I said yes.
He proceeded to take me to the balcony and found me a seat. Probably thought I was Eladio or Menino. ……”
[Besides Tony and John, Pascal is
from the third ‘Mascarenhas’ family from Makadara. He is the younger brother of another of our
schoolmate: Joseph Mascarenhas (Sucor) of Perth, Australia. Due to the loss of the breadwinner in their
family and being the oldest boy, Joseph left school early to take on
employment at African Marine, where he went on to become a Master Welder. I know of at least three other such cases at
our school, of boys who had to abandon school early because of family
circumstances.]
b) ‘Coconut Oil Pereira’:
Apart from working for the Mombasa Times, to supplement his
income to support a family of 6 children, Dad had a ‘cottage industry’ kind of
set-up, for selling coconut oil from home.
I never got round to establishing how this came about but presumably
there is a connection between coconuts and his upbringing in Goa. He was a self-made, enterprising individual
who would never while away his time just sitting at home, even on a
Sunday. He had to keep occupied or be on
the move. His only leisure activity I
recall, was rod-fishing at the Kilindini Docks on occasional Sundays, seated
quietly on barges and reflecting on life in general.
Pereira’s
Coconut Oil Label Mombasa 1950’s/1960’s
Here is a picture of an old label used on oil bottles. It dates back to the 1950s which I have carefully preserved in my collection as memorabilia for our family history.
A couple of years before I finished
school, Dad leased a warehouse/storeroom from the Rapoz family (several
of their boys attended the Goan School too: Bento, Simon, Victor….)
where the copra (dried coconut kernel) was stored and mechanically crushed for
its oil. That was close to the Railway
Station and immediately behind Mombasa Engineering Works that was owned
by the Ismaili Sangrar family (Shaukat Sangrar was my classmate). The
bottling and labelling were done by my siblings and myself at home in
Makadara. Our flat concrete roof in
Makadara, was ideal for the drying of the split coconut halves, to facilitate
the ease of scooping-out the copra from the shell. There was always a hired ‘hamali cart’
outside our home to transport the copra, oil and bottles, to-and-fro.
Coconut oil was much sought after by
the Goan community in East Africa because of that close traditional connection
that hailed from Goa. We see that historical
link too in the Mombasa Goan Institute’s logo that depicts two coconut
trees. I recall, whenever there were
Goan visitors to Mombasa from upcountry like Nairobi or Uganda, often there
were two ‘must-have’ items they wished to take back: a) Mombasa Halwa and b) Pereira’s
Coconut Oil.
What happened to that business? Sadly, on 3rd January 1963, my
younger brother Albert sustained a serious swimming-related spinal injury that
saw him hospitalised for 10 long months that year, before he passed away in
Lisbon on 12th October. I had
accompanied him for treatment in Portugal.
His accident and death devastated and fragmented our family. Furthermore, that being the same year of
Kenyan Independence and all the ensuing unsettling uncertainties it brought to
the Asian community, I found myself move to the UK for higher education on a Gulbenkian
Foundation bursary. My parents
moved to Lourenco Marques in Mozambique with my two youngest siblings for a few
years, before returning to Goa. The
brand name, “Pereira’s Coconut Oil” continued in the hands of an Asian
business family, I discovered. Although
the East African Goan community is greatly depleted now, I found out the branded
oil is now used by native Africans for cosmetics and for straightening their
hair.
c) ‘Balloon Uncle’:
Without fail, every Christmas, after the 6am Mass, Dad had an
‘obligatory task’ he had to accomplish before lunch. His pockets laden with balloons, he would
visit Goan homes all around Mombasa, where there were little children. These were people we knew in Makadara, Mnazi
Moja, Ganjoni, Makupa and wherever. He
would hand every ecstatic child a balloon.
And as these children were growing up, they would wait anxiously for the
‘Balloon Uncle’, every Christmas.
Having brought joy and fun into one home, he would move on to the next
and so on. He had a well laid out plan
in his mind as to the sequence of homes to call at. This endeared him greatly to so many ‘young
ones’ then, that that loving gesture is still remembered to this day.
Dad’s keen interest in our young people
was further exemplified by another act he is well remembered for. If he were aware of any of our Goan
youngsters looking out for work, he would use his ‘Mombasa Times’
influence, to put in a word on their behalf, to traders and businesses that consulted
him for advertising. He helped several
girls and boys in this context. He
placed a couple of girls with the popular Mombasa retail store: Fatheli
Dalla and boys into printing establishments, I know of. What better than personal
recommendation? Perhaps, because he had 6
children himself, he always had an encouraging word for our young people. When he returned to Goa, children in Navelim
got to know him as “Good Morning Uncle”.
The reason? He would stand
out in the veranda watching the children go to school every morning and address
them: “Good Morning Children”.
17. Our
Amazing Bulbul
Here is
a light-hearted piece to wrap up this chapter on our life in Makadara. As boys, if we were not at home or school, in
all probability, we were in the church grounds engaged in Legion of Mary
activities or playing at the Stella Maris Club. The church had vast grounds with trees,
fruit groves and a deep quarry, would you believe? Enough to interest and excite us, into our own
boys-world of ‘discoveries, explorations and adventures’. We encountered birds, bats, rock lizards
(burkenge) and fruit trees: papaya, tangerines, custard apples, mangoes and berries
(borams). Those of us who played on the Stella
Maris Ground cannot forget the quarry, bang alongside, spanning the full
length of the pitch. Often our ball
would drop into the 8/9 feet deep quarry during play, requiring one of the
players to scramble down and retrieve it before the game resumed again.
That
quarry is where the coral building blocks used in the construction of the Holy
Ghost Church, were cut out from. I
remember, whilst we played football on the field, our school ‘Boy Scouts Troop’
used to assemble weekly in that quarry – complete with flag post, Union Jack
and all. In my time, the troop included
the Vianna brothers, my classmates: Joseph Rocha, Abdul Rahim, Abdul
Wahid and others, all smartly dressed in their boy scout uniform, cap, scarf
plus staff in hand. The scouts assembled
at the Masonic Lodge-end of the quarry and weren’t in the least bothered or
troubled by the football game ‘above’ them. The other end of the quarry, Patrisi,
the sacristan of the church, utilised as his shamba allotment, growing sweet
potato, cassava and the like. Former altar
servers have fond memories of this mild, meek and friendly man.
On a
bright day, my brother and I came across a Bulbul fledgling that had just flown
out of its nest and struggled to fly back.
We took it home and nurtured it to full maturity, feeding it bananas and
papaya. We and our Makadara-mates had a tuneful
signature whistle that we used, to call out one another. There was no need of knocking on the door to
call us. On hearing that whistle, we
knew that a mate is outside and would come out to meet him. If we needed a few more minutes, we would
whistle back. It was a kind of a 2-way communication. It worked perfectly for us to summon one
another, during our young days, be it: Tony Masky, Henry, Alu, or
whoever.
Our walk
to the Goan School in Ganjoni from Makadara, was a fair distance. Often, friends would call at our home to
join us as companions for that walk.
One morning, there was a signature whistle and a reply came from the
house. The mate outside waited
patiently for a couple of minutes and whistled again. Again, there was acknowledgement from the house. With no sign of movement and waiting
impatiently outside, he whistled a third time and got a reply back. At that point, my Mum realised that someone
was outside and went to the door, only to find Henry waiting
restlessly. She had to point out that
we have all left for school. “But I
heard whistles back”, said Henry.
“Ah! That was the Bulbul” explained my Mum. That clever bird had learnt to mimic our whistle!! Henry had to ‘sprint’ to get to school
in time!!!
The
Bulbul is a colourful bird found in Africa and Asia. Below is a picture of the Kenyan
variety. Its defining feature is the
yellow under its tail. Here in the UK, a
bird song that reminds me of the Bulbul is the Blackbird, slightly larger but with
an equally delightful chorus, heard from March to August.
That was
the chapter of my life in Makadara, birdsong and all.
A Kenyan Bulbul (Photo Andrew Jarwick)
By Marci Pereira
Project: ‘Archiving
Memories of Mombasa Goan School’
Email: <mombasagoanschool@gmail.com>
April
2021
